


Blood in the Cut

by MajorTrouble



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Gen, Jaskier makes a lot of bad choices, Pre-Relationship, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27800803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorTrouble/pseuds/MajorTrouble
Summary: Jaskier gets himself trapped between a rock and a hard place. And he makes a choice.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64
Collections: The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge #011





	Blood in the Cut

Night had fallen some time ago. It had stripped the colour from the sky. Dulled the vibrant thrum of life all around. The city lights seemed to create a tapestry of stars stretching out behind the waterfall, but below was nothing but the rush of water disappearing down into darkness. 

Jaskier’s heart was in his throat as he backed away from the creature. It advanced towards him on human legs, a human smile gently twisting its features, and its human hand reached out to touch him. It looked like a man, but Jaskier knew the truth, knew what lay beneath the surface of his too-perfect appearance. 

“Oh sweetheart, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you,” the not-man crooned to him. “But you need to come back from the edge there.” His brow furrowed in what looked like genuine concern as Jaskier moved further away, water sloshing around his ankles as he wadded into the river. 

“Just - just stay away from me,” his voice shook as he spoke and Jaskier cringed internally. The water was cold, numbing his skin where it touched him, soaking through his sneakers and pant legs and making him shiver. 

He knew he wasn’t thinking straight but he couldn’t really be blamed. The man in front of him - _not really a man_ , his brain reminded him - had been dating him for nearly a month. They’d come to the falls to celebrate, in fact. But Trent had slipped up, shown his true form, as he grazed overly long canines against Jaskier’s throat. 

Vampire. _Monster._

“Come on, baby, it was a mistake. I didn’t mean - “

“Didn’t mean what? To tell me? Were you saving that for another milestone anniversary?” Jaskier knew he was babbling, but the water was getting colder, moving higher up his body as he forced himself into the river. His neck itched where Trent had bit him. 

He really should have listened to Geralt. 

His best friend had told him he didn’t trust Trent, that there was something about him that wasn’t right. Jaskier had laughed it off: Geralt didn’t like anyone he dated. But now here he was, stuck at the top of a waterfall, an honest-to-goodness Vampire trying to coax him out again. 

Suddenly he was struck from behind, landing face-first in the freezing cold water. It sucked the air from his lungs and he floundered, trying to right himself. He managed to scramble back to his knees just in time to see three more figures materialize beside Trent. The women were all gorgeous in that too-perfect, ethereal way that Jaskier was fast coming to recognize as a vampiric trait.

“Is this him? He’s pretty,” a woman to Trent’s left nearly purred. 

Trent pouted, hands suddenly on his hips. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to wait at the hotel,” he stated petulantly. 

The woman to his left batted his arm playfully. “We got bored. You were taking too long.”

Slowly, trying not to draw attention to himself, Jaskier stood back up. He weighed his options. Going back to shore meant probably being eaten by four hungry - _but very sexy_ \- Vampires. Walking further into the river meant near certain death as the current picked up and threw him over the falls. 

Panic was rising in a wave over top of him and he shivered violently. This drew the eyes of the Vampires and he whimpered under the intensity of their stares. 

“You don’t have much of a choice here, sweetheart,” Trent smirked. 

Well. That’s what this was all about, though, wasn’t it? Choice. He could choose how he died. 

He knew his life wasn’t an interesting one. His father thought him a disappointment and an embarrassment. He made his living writing songs for other people. But his independence - the freedom to make his own choices, be they good or bad, were what made up the entirety of his being. 

Geralt had always told him he never looked before he leaped. He was always getting Jaskier out of one self-imposed problem or another. And Jaskier loved him for it. Loved him with an intensity he knew could never be reciprocated but that was okay. As long as they were friends, that was okay. 

He was dragged from his thoughts again as Trent sighed at him. “Come on, Jaskier. This won’t hurt a bit.”

Jaskier smiled sadly. “I know.” He dove backwards into the river, letting the incredibly fierce current drag him beneath the surface. It bounced him over rocks, forcing what little air he’d managed to grasp out of his lungs before tossing him back to the surface to gasp for more. As his head broke the waterline, he heard an in-human shriek and an answering snarl before he was sucked under again. 

_Was that Geralt?_ was his last truly coherent thought.

The pull of the water was unrelenting. It tossed him back and forth. Its rushing, roaring sound filled his head. Sharp edges dug into him, piercing his skin. Finally, the roaring crescendoed around him and he felt himself go completely weightless before gravity took over, dragging him over the edge of the waterfall and into the dark, churning waters below. 

The undertow pulled him down, down into the black depths. His soar, exhausted body pulled him down, down into the black depths.

He felt peaceful. He’d made the right choice.

*

Consciousness came as a surprise. 

It was a struggle to open his eyes and when he did, he nearly passed out again. The bright afternoon sun bathed the hospital room in tones of pink. The machines attached to him beeped in a steady rhythm. The figure in the chair beside him stared at him with piercing golden eyes. 

“Geralt?” he tried, voice bubbling up like water from a brook.

“You’re an idiot.”

Jaskier laughed. Or at least tried to. It came out as more of a croak. He took the proffered glass and sipped at the liquid inside. In truth, he felt like he’d swallowed enough water to last a lifetime. 

The two stared at each other for a few breathless minutes before Geralt looked away. His brow was furrowed and his lips drawn down in a deep frown. Jaskier waited patiently for the other to speak. He’d played this game before, he knew the rules. Geralt wouldn’t be rushed.

Geralt sighed before rubbing a hand over his face and staring at the ceiling. “I told you I didn’t trust Trent.”

“To be fair, you don’t like any of my dates,” Jaskier countered. 

He grimaced. “I said trust, not like. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was a certain… aura around him. Now that I know what he was, it’s obvious.” He almost sounded like he was saying the last part to himself.

“What do you mean, obvious? You speak as though you’ve seen a Vampire before.”

Geralt looked at him blankly. 

“You have!” Jaskier’s eyes widened in shock. And then curiosity and excitement started taking over. “Where? When? Or better yet, why?”

Geralt sighed again. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I… I’ve not been very forthcoming about my past.”

Jaskier hummed non-commitely. “Not like I’ve told you much about mine, either. But yours sounds much more interesting right now.” He glanced around the room again, finally taking in the motorcycle leathers and saddlebags piled in the other unoccupied chair. 

And leaning against the chair were two swords, one silver and one steal. 

“Holy fuck, you’re a Witcher.”

Geralt jolted in startelement beside him. “How do you know that?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Oh please, I’ve a Master’s Degree in Art History. It may be useless in practice, but I’d recognize those swords anywhere. Beside, big broody hulk like you, I bet you’ve been wearing contacts this whole time, plus two very scary-looking swords.” He crossed his arms over his chest in triumph. “Witcher. Called it!”

Geralt buried his face in his hands, groaning. “Can we please focus on how you thought throwing yourself off a waterfall was the best way to escape a coven of Vampires?”

Jaskier considered it for a moment before grinning. “I made my choice.” 

Geralt huffed a laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank-you for reading!! <3


End file.
